Ain't No Rest For The Wicked
by Butteryfly Truths
Summary: Born in a field of wheat, America was supposed to be the hope of Europe, of an old Empire. America was never meant to be ruled though, and she would prove that she was more than just a mere colony. She would show them all the true power of freedom and the blue skies above. UKxfem!US along with minor pairings. Rated T for France and later on Romano!
1. Chapter 1

**Hey, so what do you know- I'm not dead!**

**Anyways, this is my baby that I plan on spending an extensive amount of time researching, writing, and refining. I'm in this for the long haul and though I'm kinda writing this as I go I can guarantee that it _will_ be long. Like wayy more than twenty chapters or any of the works I've done up till now.**

**And I want a lot of ****criticism, helpful of course. I want all of you to put on your best grammar nazi faces and critique the shit out of this thing. I put a ton of research into this- I'll include it in the bottom of each chapter -but I'm human and I don't have a beta for any of this, so there will be mistakes. So if you can point it out (nicely of course) that would be amazing!**

**And if you wanna just geek out about the history in your review that's fine too (American history FTW!)**

**Alright, I'm done up here. Last thing before I can let you read this:**

***ahem* I do not own Hetalia. That belongs solely to Himaruya. All I own is the plot and my own take on American history.**

**Enjoy!**

Chapter 1

"_Those who deny freedom to others deserve it not for themselves" _

-_ Abraham Lincoln_

_America, 1763_

"Arthur, Arthur you're back!"

England's eyes widened in surprise as he watched America emerge from their Bostonian house: red skirt and golden hair fluttering around in the wind as she launched herself at her caretaker. He hadn't seen her since the beginning of the war with France, wait no scratch that. He hadn't even had time to check in on her before he'd gone straight to the front lines of the battlefield.

The war was finally over. England had been the one to come out victorious as he knew he would on this side of the globe, not that he hadn't kicked France and the rest of those tossers' arses with Prussia- idiot was a total prick but a damn fine general -when he had finished the European side. Now France was permanently gone from North America, seeding over New France to England as per the terms of his surrender. Then there was the addition of Florida, courtesy of Spain, which now meant that the British Empire had sole influence in the New World. The very thought made him want to jump with glee.

He couldn't help remembering the small colony that had clung desperately to France's leg, barely looking the human age of eight, as France signed the treaty with Spain glaring beside him, babbling incoherently in French with tears streaming from his strange violet-blue eyes. At the time he'd looked so similar to America that England couldn't help the feeling of guilt and homesickness at being away from his charge for so long without so much as a letter to console his colony. Apparently though, the years had changed America quite a bit.

Instead of the adorably cute eight-year-old colony he'd left behind, standing before him was a young child, no a young _lady_, of thirteen. She'd grown practically to the tip of his chin, perhaps a few inches shorter, though her body was still lanky and awkward with merely the beginnings of her womanly curves showing. The golden hair that she had just been learning to put into pigtails- since England had no idea how to style a woman's hair. God forbid France ever found out he'd never allow him to live it down –was thrown back into a large braid that ran down to her shoulder blades. She had gained a healthy tan from the earlier summer months and her sky blue eyes twinkled with mirth.

Automatically he held his arms out as she collided into him, her arms wrapping securely around his waist.

"Oh Arthur how I've missed you! This war torn us apart for far too long!" she cried indignantly. England let out a chuckle, glad to see that at least her loud, slightly self-centered personality had not been replaced in his absence as well.

"I have missed you as well," England murmured back, trying to hide his wince of discomfort as America's arms tightened around him. She always had been too strong for her own good. The fact that England's body was covered with healing wounds that were still tender to the touch didn't help matters any. This war with France and the others back in Europe had taken a much greater toll on England than he had expected. His empire was drowning in debt, desperately calling for relief, and his body was taking the full brunt of it.

Apparently England hadn't hidden the wince as well as he thought he had as America's arms instantly loosened and she pulled back to look critically at England.

"Arthur are you okay?" America asked in confusion. "I'm not hurting you am I?"

Instantly he tried to soothe the spark of fear in her eyes. Before she had always been oblivious to his discomfort whenever he had arrived in America hurting from some war or another his empire was fighting. Now though it seemed that obliviousness he had always taken for granted was fading away.

"I'm simply tired is all," England assured her. "This war has been long and hard. I merely require some rest and I'll be fine."

America's eyes remained confused and slightly dubious, seeming to weigh whether she should take his words at face value or press for more details. Honestly though he hadn't been lying when he said he was tired. He was practically falling asleep upright and his legs felt like dead weight beneath him as he was held up almost completely by America's grasp.

Thankfully, America seemed to make up her mind as she released him while taking a small step back. England tensed as he felt his body sway slightly without America's strength keeping him up. He was kept from falling on his arse, however, when he felt America's arm slide underneath his own and held him in place.

"Well then why don't we head inside then?" America supplied, beaming at him as they began to make their way back in. "I'll have the maid prepare you a nice cup of tea and you can go up to your room and rest. We can catch up when you're awake."

"That sounds lovely dear," England replied. He felt slightly guilty about putting off his reunion with America for something as trivial as a few hours of sleep, but she didn't seem perturbed as she led him through the front door and steered them straight towards the narrow staircase leading up to the bedrooms. While England certainly appreciated America lending him her strength he could certainly put himself to bed.

"This is far enough," England told America, gently unhooking his arm from hers as they stood outside his room. America hovered uncertainly beside him, her eyebrows creasing as an internal conflict took place behind those dazzling blue eyes.

"Well if you say so…" she trailed off hesitantly. She closed her eyes and let out a small huff, opening them to give England a bright smile.

"I'll just be downstairs if you need me."

"I'll make sure to let you know," he said, returning the smile with his own small one. "Now shoo," he added, making a small motion with his hands. "I'm sure you have chores to finish up." He turned away from his charge and opened the door to his room. Nothing had been touched since his last stay thankfully. America had an annoying habit of moving his things around when she cleaned his room during his absences. He heard her voice quietly sneak past the door before he closed it behind himself.

"I'm glad you're home Arthur…"

…

He awoke a few hours later to a dimly lit room. Hazy evening sunlight slanted its way through the window to bathe his room in a burnt golden glow. He stretched his body out on the bed, pleased to feel only a dull throbbing from his healing wounds instead of the sharp aches that had tormented him all the way down the colonies. Rolling his head to the side he saw a cup of cooled tea resting on the small wooden side table, a small roll of cloth beside it. England's eyebrows furrowed in confusion at the cloth and then looked in the mirror sitting against the far wall.

His hair was a complete mess and his clothes rumpled from falling asleep on the bed before thinking to take them off. The first few buttons on his top had come undone, revealing the dirty cloths wrapped around his upper chest. England grimaced at the sight of them, knowing that they extended down to just below his ribs. Then the reason for the cloths beside him clicked into England's head and he felt himself pale. Whoever had come in with his tea obviously must have seen the bandages and ran off to gather fresh ones.

He prayed that it had been the maid who had seen them rather than America. He did not want to expose her to war and its repercussions, not now, not ever. She was to remain clean and pure, untainted by the blood that flew so readily through England's hands if he had any say in the matter.

Quickly he went to his trunk that had been placed at the end of the bed to pull out some fresh clothes, making sure to take the time to stand in front of the mirror and carefully rewrap his wounds with the fresh bandages provided.

Walking downstairs he first saw America sitting in the living room, her knitting resting on her lap.

_Did I ever teach her that?_ England wondered as he watched her work. He'd certainly done it before with a younger America in the room, but he couldn't recall ever teaching her himself. The wood below him must have creaked since America's hands stilled and she looked over her shoulder.

"Arthur you're awake," she stated.

"It would seem that way," he replied dryly as he made his way into the room.

"I thought you might be asleep a little longer. Dinner should be ready soon," America continued on. "Come and sit with me. We can talk if you'd like."

"When did you learn to pick up a needle?" England asked as he sat down on the other side of the couch America was curled up on. She looked at him curiously and then glanced down at her work.

"Oh the knitting? The last servant we had, Elizabeth, taught me a decade back or so," she explained. "All of my mittens had gotten too small and I didn't want my hands to freeze so I asked her if she could make me some new mittens. She taught me so that I could make my own things when she's not here, saying 'every young, respectable lady ought to know how to mend and sew their own clothes'."

"Aye, she's right about that, though you are a bit different from the average young lady."

"Ya think?" she smirked. "So anyways I've been working on it since. It's been nice to make my own things instead of having to pay for them."

"The money you pay gets sent back to me though," England commented offhandedly.

"That's true and now that I'm filthy rich I can pay for all these new things you're exporting," America joked. "I just like knitting, what can I say? And you know, I could make even more money if you'd just let us trade with other empires…"

"We've had this conversation before," England cut in sharply. "The purpose of a colony to give back _solely_ to the mother country. Foreign trading is out of the question. Smugglers will be punished if they attempt to trade with other empires such as France or Spain."

Actually, now that England's thinking about it, America's always had a problem with smugglers. They'd fly under a flag of truce, so his navy would be hesitant to stop them based on a misunderstanding. Still though, in recent years the number of smugglers has been increasing, slowly but increasing nonetheless. It was about time that England nipped it in the bud, and with all his soldiers still here from their recent battle against the French now would be a perfect time.

"I know, I know. No need to get your knickers in a twist," America replied defensively, unaware of England's inner strategizing. "I'm just sayin' is all."

"I apologize," England said with a sigh. "I did not mean to sound like I was attacking you. I am merely concerned is all."

"Well, don't worry about all that stuff right now," America told him. "I mean you just finished this war with France and you're finally here for the first time in maybe thirty years. Just relax a little would you?"

"I suppose I could," England replied, knowing that he'd never really be able to stop working. Even though now the war was finally over, at least on this side of the world, there are still so many things left to do. Rebuilding New France and wiping away all traces of the Frog was definitely at the top of the list. Then there was also the massive debt that had been incurred in England's attempt to fight a war on two separate fronts. He'd have to devise a strategy to get the money back.

Still though, for now he supposed that he'd allow America to have her way. After all, it _had_ been quite a while since he'd last spent any measurable time with the lass.

"If you're going to be using those needles then you might as well learn to do it properly," England voiced. America glanced over to him and gave him a gentle smile.

"Well then old man, would you like to teach me?" she teased.

"I am not senile!" England retorted. Nonetheless he scooted down the couch so that the two of them were sitting comfortably side by side.

"Maybe not yet," she relented, her eyes still filled with mirth. "Someday though you're gonna be an old man and someone's gonna come up and kick you off that high horse you're sitting on."

"Oh, and are you insinuating that someone will be yourself darling?" England teased, ignoring the grammar for the moment. "You'll find that I am quite hard to dislodge."

If anyone else had spoken to him in such a way they'd already be on the ground. However, this was America- his pride and joy. He knew that while there may be a few small problems surrounding the colonists the personification sitting beside him would remain loyal to him.

"Nah, that'd just be cruel," America laughed. "Besides I'd miss you and your old man habits."

"I think you need to relearn what constitutes 'old' in terms of us nations poppet," England scoffed. "I am quite young compared to the rest of Europe."

"Yeah, yeah keep telling yourself that. I'm sure all of you old men live together in a nursing home or something," America snickered.

"Do you wish for me to teach you or are you just going to insult me for the remainder of my time here?"

"Teach away, O' Great British Empire," she replied with a mocking little head bow in his direction. England sighed. Her childish enthusiasm was both entertaining and exhausting to deal with.

"Right then, well for starters you need to hold your needles like this," England instructed, wrapping his hands around America's and guiding them into the correct position. Her hands were still smaller and slimmer than his, but far from smooth. Years of riding horses and tilling the fields during the spring and summer seasons in preparation for the fall harvest had made her hands rough and slightly calloused. She was growing into her own right before England's eyes and though it made him nervous he was also immensely proud. Her growth could only serve to better the Empire.

**Woohoo first chapter over! I did this one, and most of the second one in England's POV mainly to set the setting and bring in outside information that I would think America wouldn't really know about. Afterwards it's going to be all America with maybe a quick few lines inside a chapter or two to bring in more information. And yes, this is a Fem!America fic if you haven't noticed. Honestly I get that people love their yaoi (I am one of those people) but I think the Nyos don't get enough love and I am obsessed with the idea of a female America.**

**So yes when the UKUS (yes you read that right) comes up- wayyy down the line -it will be hetero. But don't worry, there'll still be some yaoi out there for you guys just a different ship :)**

**Alright HISTORY TIME BITCHES XD**

**Seven Year's War**** (1756-1763)- AKA French and Indian War to my fellow Americans reading this. Basically the fighting in Europe spilled over into the colonies because America and Canada (there was fighting in other colonies too) wanted to show that they could help and then France was also getting a little handsy and trying to take some land in the Ohio River Valley. Add a longstanding history of animosity and BAM war declared! Spain ended up jumping in on the New World side to help France and England kicked his butt too. With the Treaty of Paris (one of the many in a long, long line of Paris Treaties) France gave up Canada to save his interests down in the Caribbean while Spain had to give up Florida. Back in Europe it was a battle royale with Sweden, France, Russia, and Austria (along with some others) trying to beat down Prussia (who at the time was being commanded into greatness by Frederick the Great). Prussia and England teamed up against them and managed to win since they were tight back then while the others were all looking out for themselves. Prussia ended up taking Austria's vital regions (AKA Silesia) in this war. So you guys remember that one episode were Prussia whooped Austria's ass and England and France went to fight off screen? Yeah, this is the war they're talking about- don't quote me though I haven't watched the anime in a while so it could be a different war.**

**Back in the colonies, this was the war that really started to kick off tensions between America and England because the colonists realized that they were being held to a double standard by the 'true Englishmen'. Also England wound up with _a lot_ of debt that he suddenly had to get rid of. And what better way to make up the money than by taxing the crap out of your colonists? Yeah, you'll see how that ends up going in Chapter 2. But for right now America and England are chill, a bit uneasy, but otherwise on good terms still.**

**Salutary Neglect\- Okay so smuggling was actually a pretty big issue over in the colonies. The British Empire (and a lot of Europe for that matter) ran on mercantilism, which means that colonies are supposed to enrich only the mother country (AKA only trade with them + buy their goods). Since America is so far away from England and more specifically the colonies' tradition of doing whatever the hell they wanted, a thriving smuggling ring was established up and down the coast. British custom officers were bribed to look the other way and if a smuggler was caught they were likely to be let off the hook by a sympathetic American jury. They'd secretly trade with the French, Spanish, and Dutch from right under England's nose. It's estimated that America was gaining close to 700,000 pounds (that's a probably somewhere in the millions today) each year due to trade with other countries via smuggling. They made a killing off of the Seven Year's War too, using flags of truce as a guise to trade with the enemy and make a handsome profit!**

**England didn't really do much to stop the smuggling though- this period of laxness is known today as salutary neglect and it lasted about 150 years. In that time America kinda broke away from mercantilism in favor of a free trade economy (AKA _"the business of America is business"_ brought to you by future President Harding) which was one of the reasons, along with rapid industrialization, that the economy in the colonies was booming, and booms all the way up to the Revolution. Most colonists, even the poor ones, had a higher standard of living than their English counterparts. After the Seven Year's War though is when England realizes how relaxed he's been with America and starts to crack down on the colonists now that he's practically broke- fueling even more pre-Revolution tensions.**

**Alright, my teachable moment is over for now. These updates are not going to be coming in fast seeing as I have school and life to deal with, but rest assured I'll update this as soon as I can.**

**Tell me how I'm doing and I'll see you next time!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Hey guys I'm here with the next chapter!**

**I'm stoked that a bunch of you guys liked this enough to favorite and follow this, hell just reading it makes me happy, and I hope I keep up with your expectations!**

**And to the lovely guest who reviewed about Florida being acquired in 1763 possibly not fitting in with the timeline the first chapter _was_ about 1763 so my mention of it was historically accurate. I'm unsure if Spain gave Florida in the same treaty that France gave away Canada (it's highly unlikely) but I made sure to be intentionally vague there just to make sure.**

**Alright, I think I've said enough. Please enjoy this next installment~**

Chapter 2

"_Since when have we Americans been expected to bow submissively to authority and speak with awe and reverence to those who represent us?" _

_\- William O'Douglass_

_America, 1773_

"Amelia, stop this nonsense at once."

"Remove your soldiers and those damned taxes of your's and _then_ maybe I'll stop!"

America and England stood on opposite sides of the study, parchment scattered across the worn wood flooring and ink still pouring out of the overturned inkwell on the ornate mahogany desk England had imported here from Asia. It had been a mistake for England to come back to the colonies right now and he was now just starting to realize that fact.

The past decade had been anything but pleasant for the two personifications. After leaving in 1763, England hadn't returned to the colonies, being too embroiled in European affairs. He had been left reeling in debt and nearly tearing his hair out to try and find ways to build his gold back up. It simply wouldn't do what with France and Spain always lurking just beyond the shadows, practically salivating at the chance to knock England off of his throne- even if they were still licking their wounds.

They could _smell_ weakness.

Then it had been suggested to the King that they should focus on taxing the colonies. A brilliant plan, really if England thought about it. After all, they'd been incredibly lax with them for nearly the past hundred fifty years and the level of autonomy that each colony was developing troubled the King deeply.

"We have to remind them of their place," the King had stated.

And remind them the King certainly did. It had started out fairly simple, just a tax on sugar and molasses. Another that forbade the colonists from paying with their paper currency. They also used their military forces still in the colonies in order to crack down on smuggling and had them board with the colonists. A halt on westward expansion so that those damn Indians might stop attacking and raiding homes and towns. Common sense really, in England's opinion. The colonists hadn't been pleased with these new rules, but they'd taken them nonetheless with only a bit of complaining.

Everything had started going to hell when the Stamp Act had been put into place. Suddenly Massachusetts and Virginian colonists were in an uproar. That damned House of Burgesses even had the gall to tell England that they could not tax their colonists in such a manner! Massachusetts hadn't reacted much better in his opinion, acting like a bunch of savages by destroying the house of the stamp distributor in Boston.

Along with the general news that trickled from the colonies and made it into the headlines of England's newspapers he also received a letter from America. The poor girl was confused and angry as to why her mentor was suddenly putting such burdens on her people. She demanded that the Stamp Act be repealed at once. England tried to explain that this was not a matter for her to be concerned with.

After all he could tax _his_ colonists any which way _he_ so chose.

He hadn't heard a peep from his charge after the angry letter until he received word on the boycott sweeping the colonies against imported British goods. The boycott had forced British merchants to request a repeal and it was grudgingly that England had signed his name to the document that granted it. He hated having his hand forced in such a manner, especially from some upstart colonies. He was the Empire from which the sun never set! He owned nearly a third of the globe and yet he was being bullied into acquiescing by some redneck farmers. Frankly, it was embarrassing.

At least it had sated the colonists for the moment. There were no more protests until the Townshend Acts. Then it was like déjà vu all over again! Once again they were all crying foul and England had whole-heartedly agreed to his King's decision to send more troops over to the colonies in order to curb this indignant, rebellious phase they seemed to be experiencing. He had expected the show of his power to shock them out of it and return to normal, but the change never came. Tempers only intensified and in 1770 Boston they erupted with the smell of gunpowder in the air.

Revere called it a massacre; England considered it no more than a street fight that had simply gotten a bit out of hand. Honestly though with a gang of nearly fifty colonists versus only a small handful of soldiers he could hardly find fault in their actions, even if the outcome wasn't exactly in his favor. It had forced him to sign the repeal of the act after all.

He would not give up on it entirely though. They took the tax off of everything except for tea. It was a staple in every colonist's life, there was absolutely no way that they could ever cut off their dependency on something so fundamental to them.

This left him to his current situation.

America had grown even more in his relatively short absence. She was now a mere two inches shorter than himself and her womanly curves were unmistakable now. Her physical age had reached fifteen, perhaps sixteen, and her long golden locks had been sheared off to her chin, bangs falling across her forehead. He had to say that the hair irritated him the most upon his arrival, it simply wasn't proper- especially with the fact that to the humans she was under the care of a _lord_ -and had only lended itself to the image of a pauper as she had created in his absence.

"I will remove my soldiers once the colonists here have cooled their tempers," England explained, trying to keep the anger out of his tone. He may be angry at colonists in Massachusetts and Virginia but he refused to be with America. America was different and he wouldn't place blame on her for the actions of some unruly humans. Now if only America could see all this.

"As for the taxes, I've already acquiesced multiple times. I've even lowered the tax on tea some more so that it's more affordable."

"That doesn't matter if you're just going to cut out the middleman!" America countered, her body trembling with repressed emotions. "How are they supposed to compete with tax free tea from China?"

"That is not my concern," England dismissed coolly. "You said you wanted tax free tea and I delivered. I see no reason for you to be yelling at me."

"What I want is _not_ the same thing you have given me," America hissed. "This is taxation without representation!" England could not find himself to be properly intimidated by the colony. She resembled more of a puffed up kitten than an actual advisory.

"You halt my Westward expansion, you treat my colonists like second-rate citizens, you tax me on practically every conceivable object your eyes fall upon, and then you have the gall to offer up tax free tea as a peace treaty that only benefits yourself-" she cut herself off, her face growing progressively redder as her emotions took hold. England let her rant, knowing she was simply ignorant of the mechanics of it all. She just read the headlines in the newspaper and took it for the truth. While England couldn't exactly deny any of the accusations being hurled at him, he knew that in the long run these problems were trivial, practically nonexistent. She would see the wisdom of his actions if she'd just allow them to run their course.

"You're going to regret this," America warned, her ominous words bouncing harmlessly off England. Please, a colony threatening an empire? It was laughable.

"The only thing I'm regretting is all of the work I'll need to repeat after I clean up this mess you've kindly made for me," England replied, referring to the scattered papers and spattered ink that she had sent flying after storming into his study in a fit. He sighed, thinking about the letters and documents that would need to be rewritten.

"Go downstairs and ask the maid to prepare me a cuppa and have it brought to my study. Then you can go to your room and stay there until you've calmed down. _Do not_ make me repeat myself Amelia," he added, seeing her opening her mouth to protest and try and push the issue.

"You're acting like a child so I have no choice but to treat you like a child."

She levelled a cold glare at him, but he had already turned his back to her, the conversation done as far as he was concerned. She should find herself grateful that he was even allowing such a discussion on matters that were clearly _not_ her concern. He heard the ruffle of her skirt and the creak of the floorboard as she spun on her heels and stomped out of the room, slamming the door behind her hard enough for the wood to creak in protest. England sighed again. She always had been a tad on the impulsive side. He just hoped it wouldn't get her into anymore trouble than it already had.

…

America stormed into her room, the door nearly pulled off its hinges in her attempt to wrench it open. She really should be kinder to the house, after all it was not the thing she was angry at. No, that title belonged to the man in the study, probably hunched over his desk already beginning the tedious effort of trying to figure out which documents were salvageable. Hmph, well it served him right as far as America was concerned.

There used to be a time when she would have been apologizing profusely to England, practically grovel at his feet and ask if there was any way to make it up to him. She used to look up to him, worship the very ground he walked on almost. It's funny, almost laughable really, how much can change in a mere decade when they themselves have already lived for centuries.

She felt that she had grown quite considerably within the past twenty years, that she perhaps held some measurable influence in England's Empire now. She thought herself on par both economically and politically with England, but that old man just wouldn't see it, _refused_ to acknowledge it. No, he kept talking down to her as if she were still the human age of a toddler, and on top of that putting tax after tax upon her. She felt like she was drowning- were it possible to drown from words on a piece of parchment.

She looked around her room, every piece of furniture had been imported from the motherland, from the queen sized bed down to the little dolly that England had knitted for her back a decade ago when he had last visited. She was sickened by the sight of it, by the overwhelming presence of England in here. She had to get out, had to get away from here.

A low growl built in the back of her throat as she quickly grabbed her knapsack and ransacked the bureau, blindly grabbing whatever clothes she could and stuffing them inside. She would have to be fast, England would certainly not just let her run off without making an effort to recapture her. However, she knew whom to seek out who would help shield her from England.

As she expected, no one questioned her actions when she walked out of the house and to the barn to saddle her horse. England was probably too preoccupied with his work to sense anything amiss and the servants always knew that America liked to take her mare out for long walks especially when she was in a foul mood, which had been growing steadily in frequency in the past decade.

The stable was warm, a welcomed reprieve from the winter chill, and she inhaled the sweet scent of hay and horse as she walked down to the last stall. Coming to the stable always put her in a better mood. After all, animals were so much more understanding than humans. They didn't try to belittle you or lie to you or stab you in the back with a smile. Their brains and emotions worked in a wonderfully simplistic way that America could certainly empathize with.

America's latest horse was a lovely bay American Quarter Horse named Ginny. With powerful hindquarters and a broad chest she was the picture of strong and agile, able to make split second turns or help till the soil in the spring. She was America's pride and joy and she was sure that she spoiled the horse too much for her own good.

Ah, but that wasn't important at the moment. She gazed at America curiously as the stall door was opened and America led her out so that she could put the saddle and bridle on. She knickered and softly brushed her velvety lips against America's shoulder as she passed, probably hoping for the apple or sugar cube America usually brought with her.

"Sorry girl," America said with a pat to her neck. "Not this time." Ginny threw her head back a little and stomped her hind leg against the dirt floor. America was sure that had she been human she would have been pouting. The mental image made America chuckle as she cinched the saddle in place and moved to place the bridle over Ginny's head.

"Don't worry, when we get to where we're going I'll make sure to give you two cubes as an apology," America offered and she was almost positive that she could see Ginny's eyes light up at the prospect. She chuckled again and with one last quick once over she lifted herself up and onto the saddle, mindful of her skirt, and lightly pressed against Ginny's sides to get her to start walking.

America glanced one last time at the house as she led Ginny down the driveway. The two story colonial stood silently, the bearer of a thousand childhood memories that would never make it into history books. It was her home, yet she wasn't quite so sure if she'd see it again. Still though in a way, throughout all those years, it had been her prison too. America had been subservient inside those wooden walls, sheltered beneath the strength and security that was always wrapped around the Empire like a cloak.

It felt almost liberating, a chance to be free of England. Now was not the time to reminisce about the past. No, she needed to look towards the ever changing future now. America was no longer a child though who needed to be protected. She didn't need the Empire the same way it needed her. She wouldn't let England push her around anymore. If he pushed she was going to push back until he acknowledged her as an equal- which deep beneath all the bitterness and outrage was what America dreamed of at night.

It was high time that she spread her wings.

**And the plot thickens ;)**

**Oh where oh where to begin~**

**The Proclamation Act of 1763 \- This was definitely a big thing that soured relationships between the colonies and England. Basically, in an attempt to appease the Native American tribes that had been butting heads with colonists since they first arrived, declared that there could be no western expansion past the Appalachian Mountains. Considering we just fought against France to free up the Ohio River Valley (which is oh-so-conveniently located just past the Appalachian) for ourselves and now the King was saying we couldn't use it seriously ticked colonists off.**

**1764 Sugar Act**** \- Basically this was exactly what it sounds like: a tax on imported sugar. It also taxed other items like textiles, coffee, wine, and indigo (which was a type of dye) but sugar was the main thing. This was the start of England's attempt to get rid of some of his debts.**

**1764 Currency Act**** \- Passed the same year this one focused on the paper currency the colonies had started to use. Obviously, slips of paper weren't exactly cutting it for England when he was desperate for hard currency. So he decided to ban it and in so jeopardizes the entire colonial economy in both the North and South. Let's just say _no one_ was happy about this.**

**1765 Stamp Act**** \- Okay this is a big one. This was considered England's first 'direct' tax on colonists. See before the tax money was really only circulating within the colonies and indirectly into England. With this tax though their money went straight to England and no where else. This tax was used to pay for the military personnel England still had over in the colonies (something else we were _not_ happy about). Under this all printed material was taxed: newspapers, bills, pamphlets, legal documents, hell they even taxed dice and playing cards! This was the first act that was met with some form of organized resistance by the colonies. In Virginia the House of Burgesses (basically that colony's version of Parliament) told England that it had no right to tax their colonists like that. In Massachusetts it got a lot more violent with colonists storming into the stamp distributor's house and destroying it. There were colony-wide boycotts on British goods up and down the East Coast and they even formed the stamp act congress in order to force England to repeal the act, which he eventually did.**

**1765 Quartering Acts****\- Another thing colonists were really not happy about. This act allowed soldiers to live in colonists' houses, whether their occupants opened their doors willingly or not.**

**1767 Townshend**** Acts - These acts were a series of taxes on imported tea, paper, glass, lead and paints in order to pay for the finances involved in protecting the colonies from enemies. Once again colonists were very much not happy. These acts spawned the famous quote "Taxation without Representation" and the colonies, and Boston in particular, renewed their efforts to boycott British goods. **

**This was when Boston and Parliament _really_ began to butt heads. They sent warships to sit in Boston Harbor and Bostonians were starting to arm themselves. In Virginia the House of Burgesses was forcibly dissolved by Parliament.**

**1770 Boston Massacre**** \- The first major violence between colonists and soldiers happened in Boston. Soldiers were standing outside guarding a building when they started to get harassed by a huge mob (estimates are about 50 Bostonians vs. about a dozen soldiers). Captain Thomas Preston, who was in charge of the unit, ordered the men into formation but not to shoot. He just wanted to scare the colonists off. It kinda had the opposite effect though and made the mob even rowdier than before. No one really knows who shouted "Fire!" but the soldiers fired and instantly killed two people, mortally wounded three more, and injured six others. While Parliament considered it no more than a scuffle that got out of hand, Paul Revere managed to gain a significant amount of colonist sympathy and indignation by calling it a massacre in the newspaper.**

**1773 Tea Act**** \- This was what was left of the Townshend Acts after they were repealed by Parliament. It was simply a tax on all imported tea. But there was a catch. See the British East India Company (which wasn't actually in India at the time) was practically bankrupt. So to get more money England had ships sent with their tea to the colonies and sold directly to them at a reduced price. Seems like a good idea right? Actually, it was a terrible idea from the colonists perspective since it cut out the middle man (AKA all the colonial storekeepers who sold tea). The colonies were _pissed_ and this act would eventually lead to the Boston Tea Party- which we'll be getting to next chapter :)**

**So as we can see relations between America and England are really starting to fray. England's being stubborn and purposefully blind to the colonists reactions since there is still a healthy population of loyalists there and America is starting to doubt England's superiority. Really, all America wants right now is to be acknowledged as a major player in the Empire and have some say in Parliament. This is literally all the colonists wanted and if England had let them then we probably would have been one of his colonies for a lot longer than a mere 150 odd years or so.**

**Can't guarantee when the next update will be but I'll try and post it soon.**

**See you later!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Hey guys, long time no see ;)**

Chapter 3

_"We were merry, in an undertone, at the idea of making so large a cup of tea for the fishes." _

_\- Joshua Wyeth_

_America_ \- _December 16, 1773, _

The sheer volume of noise was ridiculous, bordering on straight up insanity. Never had she seen such a place so overwhelmingly crowded such as the old South Church in Boston that evening.

_There must be thousands_, she thought vaguely, just barely able to hear thoughts over the noise. She had come, partially because she wanted to listen in on the meeting, and partially because her host was here as well. John Adams was standing next to his cousin, Samuel, talking to him before the meeting started.

John was the person she'd rode out to in Quincy. He'd gladly taken her in, allowing her to share a room with his eldest daughter. He was one of the few, along with his cousin, whom America had trusted with her true identity. He'd taken it surprisingly well for a human, though understandably he still preferred to call her by her human name. Samuel on the other hand had taken to the idea of lands being personified like a fish to water, immediately beginning to rant on how he'd like to stick his foot up England's ass- which admittedly had America gaping as England had always been rather strict on swearing.

John was certainly the more level headed out of the two of them, always making sure Samuel didn't get himself into too much trouble. He was a prominent lawyer in Boston, the only one who had been willing to take on the soldiers who had been put on trial for the Boston Massacre in 1770. Though a Patriot, he was a fair man who didn't allow bias or the public's opinion to affect his work and held a great deal of America's respect.

Samuel on the other hand was a bit of a hot head. He was the spearhead of the Sons of Liberty in Boston and had a certain way with words that could spark passion in even the deadest soul. He was the most outspoken voice in Boston against the British along with Paul Revere and John Hancock, condemning them time and time again but somehow just barely managing to get away with it with the shield of the public. He'd been speaking out against the Tea Act ever since it was enacted, becoming the spokesperson the people used to try and get old man Hutchinson and his sons to drive the three large ships sitting in port back across the Atlantic. The Governor wasn't budging though and after tonight the ships' crew will be forced to unload their cargo. At least the owner of one of the ships, _The Dartmouth_, had expressed his concerns for his ship and taken the colonists' argument to the Governor himself. Tonight they were to hear back from him.

Samuel and John broke apart, John coming back to join America in the spot that she had been saving for him while Samuel made his way up to the curved platform that jutted out from wall and raised its speaker high above the anxious and rowdy crowds. Arriving, he stared down at the Bostonians milling about.

"Everyone! Silence! The meeting is about to begin!"

His voice boomed throughout the meetinghouse, somehow holding that magically quality to drown out all the other voices in the room. It took a minute, but soon Samuel had everyone's attention. Nodding to himself as he surveyed the crowd he began.

"Tonight, we have all gathered here for one reason! And that is to see if old Hutchinson has finally come to his senses or if we'll have to send the lobsterbacks scurrying with their tails between their legs ourselves!" Samuel allowed a moment for the crowds racious burst of noise, most of it fairly insulting and all aimed at the British.

"Our good man, Mr. Rotch, has done us the gracious favor of speaking on our behalf to our Governor and seeing if he won't change his mind. Tonight, he has come to deliver the answer." He gestured his hand down towards a nervous man sitting near the front of the meeting house. He stood up, adjusting his wig slightly as he addressed the crowd.

"My sincerest apologies, but I am afraid my words fell on deaf ears. Mr. Hutchinson has made it clear that the tea will be unloaded tomorrow. There is nothing I could do to convince him otherwise," he told them. He shifted uneasily as silence hung heavy in the air. America had already subconsciously assumed that England would not back down. However, the words still stung nonetheless. Mr. Rotch mumbled one last apology before he made his way out of the meeting house and slipped into the night. As the doors closed the room exploded. America could feel the indignant anger of the colonists swell within her. How dare England do this to them? What gave him the right to play God with all these humans who were only just trying to get by? She gritted her teeth in frustrated anger.

It was unclear who suggested it, but once the idea was voiced it spread like wildfire. She could feel it throbbing in the air around her, snaking up and around her body, filling her mind with one single thought.

_Dump the tea_.

Even John, ever the cautious one, seemed to be caught up in the enticing idea. Samuel had a maddening grin on his face, his eyes sparking with mischievousness. Though they were all ready and raring to head straight to Griffin's Wharf right then and there, they paused long enough to work out a strategy. Afterall, no one was willing to risk their neck for a crate of tea. The men decided that they would dress like the Mohawks and then sneak aboard and dump all the tea into the harbor.

"I want to come with you," America told John. John himself had already declared that he would not dump any tea but rather keep an eye on his cousin and the others to make sure they didn't cause too much trouble.

"Are you sure Amelia? What if England finds out? There's also the matter that you're a woman, not that I mean any disrespect by it, but simply that this might be better left to the men," he replied uneasily. America felt herself bristle at the insinuation that she was weak. If only he had been there that one time she swung that bison around while England gaped, then perhaps he would not be so reluctant to bring her along.

"John, Amelia what are you two holding up for?" Samuel shouted across the meeting house. Already the colonists were streaming down the streets, ransacking their closets and covering their faces in soot and grease to hide their identities. Samuel gazed at them impatiently.

"Sam, you'll let me aboard and throw out the tea won't you?" America implored as she and John joined him. Samuel gave her a wicked smile.

"But of course!" he replied.

"But Amelia is-"

"Amelia is the embodiment of the idea we are trying to reach," Samuel said, interrupting his cousin abruptly. "It is only fitting that she play a part in her own history." John looked away, a scowl on his face. He did not argue though, since it was clear from the conviction shining in Samuel's eyes that it would happen no matter what he said.

"I'll tell you what Amelia, we'll even allow you the honor of throwing the first box into the harbor. See how much England likes _that_."

...

At seven pm they set their plan into motion. A hundred eighty men, most not even twenty, gathered together. They split into three groups, one group per ship, and set off to the Wharf. They were soon followed by a large mob that had come to oversee the 'Mohawks' dump the tea. It was not a quiet proceeding, the mob was loud and rowdy, not to mention the men who would do the actual act.

They stormed the wharf and clambered up onto the ships while the crowds hooted and hollered with vicious glee. The crewmen were stunned to see so many strange men suddenly coming aboard, but they stood motionless as Samuel demanded to know where the tea was being held. Funny enough, their group had boarded _The Dartmouth_ and it was Mr. Rotch who told the disguised men where to find their prize. One by one the crates were hauled up to the top deck. America watched the crew, curious as to why they weren't acting. Perhaps they were merely waiting to see what was going to happen. She knew that there were war ships in the harbor that could obliterate them with a single burst of their cannons. Perhaps that is what they were waiting for.

A large hand fell on her shoulder and she glanced behind her to see Samuel looking at her, that mad grin still on his face.

"I did say you would have the honor," he whispered quietly and America took it to mean that they were ready to start. Feeling all eyes on her, America easily picked up the nearest crate of tea and brought it over to the edge of the ship. She gazed for a moment at the inky water swirling beneath her. She could still back out of this, could still run back to England's side and pretend that this feeling blooming within her chest was merely a phase.

It was a fool's dream though and America knew it. Hardening her gaze she let out a shout and launched the crate into the air, hearing the satisfying plunk as the tea hit the harbor water some distance away. Soon after more and more tea crates hit the murky waters, creating an uneven symphony of plinks and plonks. Soon the harbor was overflowing with crates and America vaguely wondered if they would reach all the way to England itself as she helped a young man throw another crate over the edge.

A glance at the crew showed that they had not moved at all, only watching the proceedings with mild interest. It was easy to figure out why once she looked at Rotch, the man practically weeping tears of relief. They had come to the realization that their group only wanted the tea, nothing more and nothing less, and the man was beyond grateful to hold the knowledge that his ship would still be there in the morning.

…

"Did you see their faces when we demanded all of their tea? Priceless!" Samuel exclaimed excitedly as they all walked through John's front door. It had taken three hours to dump every last crate of tea overboard between the three ships and they had finally just returned to Quincy.

"And then when Amelia picked up that entire crate by herself-!"

"Hush Sam. We don't want to wake the children," John whisper-chided his cousin. Sam flushed pink in embarrassment at being called out by his cousin. Hiding it with a grin Sam elbowed America's side lightly and leaned in.

"John's just being a prick because his pride wouldn't let him join in the fun," he whispered conspiratorially in America's ear. She artfully hid her giggle behind her hand as John sighed and shook his head.

"So how did you enjoy your first act of rebellion?" Sam asked.

"I think it's something I could get used to," America joked. In actuality her body was humming with a nauseating mixture of excitement and nervousness, something akin with getting caught with her hand in the cookie jar or having England find her in rooms she wasn't supposed to have entered. She didn't regret her actions, not really, but she was scared about what England would do in retaliation. He _hated_ having his authority tested, and even though he was usually lenient with America because he accepted it as an immutable aspect of her personality, even he had a limit to his patience. She just knew that he'd figure out that she had participated as well, the man just seemed to _know_ these things, and she could be certain that there would be consequences.

"John, is that you?"

The trio glanced towards the staircase to see John's wife, Abigail, standing at the base of the stairs, a lit candle grasped in one hand. Based on her attire she had either been getting ready for bed, or they had woken her up.

"Abigail, I hope we didn't wake you," John said as he made his way to her, planting a gentle kiss on her forehead. America glanced away from the display of affection. It reminded her too much of when England would kiss her forehead after he'd tucked her into bed. Too much of happy memories she'd rather forget at the moment, lest she lose her resolve. It had certainly been hard these past few weeks, half of her begging her to stay put with the Adams and the other screaming at her to return back to England.

"No it's fine. I was waiting up for you," she replied with a gentle smile. "It's late though and the three of you must be tired," she continued, glancing at America and Samuel. "You can explain what trouble you've managed to get yourselves into in the morning. For now to bed with all of you."

Neither of the two could argue against the firm, motherly tone in Abigail's voice and with quiet goodnights the duo made their way past the couple and upstairs to their respective rooms. While America was rooming with Abigail, the eldest daughter, the Adam's had allowed Samuel with little one-year-old Thomas Boylston while he was here- on the condition that he take care of any of the child's 'late night urges' while his parents got a full nights sleep naturally.

"Amelia."

America stopped just outside her door and turned to see Samuel staring at her, a peculiar look in his eyes. The dark made it slightly difficult to make out, but thankfully being what she was she had a heightened senses so she could see just enough to make out Samuel's uncomfortable posture.

"Yes?"

"Just… just know that the Crown won't stand for such a show of disobedience," Samuel told her, obviously choosing his words with care. "I just don't want you to be too surprised when England makes his move."

"I won't," she replied.

"Good night Amelia."

"Good night."

…

_March, 1774_

"He shut down the harbor?" It wasn't worded as a question.

"Yes."

"The entire thing. No ships can leave or enter."

"Yes."

"When will it open again?"

"When they feel the British East India Company has been compensated."

"So until then they're just going to allow Boston to starve!" Everyone flinched as her voice rose, yet maintained that icy calm that sent shivers down their spines.

"England doesn't care. Neither the Parliament nor the King care. I even hear that they're beginning to draft some more acts and put it under some big fancy name. Coercive Acts or something of the like."

"I will not tolerate this. Not again." There was steel in her voice, determination in her eyes. She would not allow England to trod all over her and her people. This was all going to end.

One way or the other.

**Alright so obviously this chapter was specifically about the Boston Tea Party. This won't happen for every chapter or else we'd be on the revolution _forever_ but I thought it would be nice to include a few key moments that I could see America participating in.**

**Introduction to OCs~**

**Obviously all the OCs that will show up in this thing are going to be historical figures. Obviously, I'm going to try and keep with their general personalities and make sure that they participate in certain events that the real people were present for, but other than that everything is up in the air.**

**John Adams \- Hello there future Mr. President! Anyways John is considered one of America's founding fathers and did a shit ton of work to get us to our independence. He was born in Quincy, Massachusetts and became one of the most prominent lawyers in Massachusetts. He had a farm in Quincy where he mainly lived with his wife and children along with an office in Boston. He was well-respected and was a very unbiased man even if he did consider himself a patriot. He was the only lawyer in Boston willing to defend (and did so pretty successfully) Captain Preston and his soldiers after the Boston Massacre in order to show that their justice system worked just as well as its London counterpart. He received some hate for this but in the long run it helped his reputation as a fair man. He represented Massachusetts along with his cousin and others at the First and Second Continental Congresses and when war finally broke out he was all over the place- getting Washington nominated as the Commander of the Continental Army and helping Jefferson write the Declaration of Independence, and negotiating the terms of the Treaty of Paris which recognized America's independence being just a few. Dude was a fucking machine.**

**Samuel Adams \- Sam was John's cousin and was one of the heads of the Sons of Liberty. Sam was one of the first to suggest independence from the Crown and made it his life's goal to annoy the shit out of England any way he could. He served as Massachusetts's state legislator from 1765-1774 and was instrumental in organizing the Boston Tea along with Boston's committee of correspondence which was crucial in delivering/sending information during the revolution.**

**1773 - Boston Tea Party****\- AKA the largest tea party ever known to mankind XD . Anyways this all happened because England decided to send cheap tea from China to the colonies and had a stand off with the colonies over unloading the tea. When it came down to the wire England refused to send the tea back and the colonists decided to toss it all overboard in retaliation. They all dressed up as Mohawk Native Americans so that the British officers wouldn't arrest them. They chucked 342 chests overboard, needing at least two men per chest they were that heavy. It's estimated that $1,000,000 worth of tea was tossed overboard by today's standards.**

**1774 Coercive Acts**** \- Most Americans know this better as the Intolerable Acts. These acts were in response to the Boston Tea Party and accordingly mostly focused on punishing the New England colonies. This was England's attempt to make an example of Boston so that other colonies would stop acting up. Under the blanket title there was the Boston Port Act, Quebec Act, Massachusetts Government Act, the Quartering Act, and the Administration of Justice Act.**

**Boston Port**** Act \- This was the act that shut down the Boston Harbor. Nobody came in and nobody came out, effectively cutting off all interactions via the waterways. This left the residents of Boston to basically either hightail it out of there if they had a place they could go or sit and wait it out while slowly starving to death because there were no fresh foods or money to get food coming in. Massachusetts colonists along with all the other colonies responded by bringing all their goods and such into Boston by land so that the people stuck there wouldn't starve to death and helped foster the hatred towards the British in the New England colonies.**

**Quebec Act**** \- This one really ticked off colonists. Basically it recognized the Roman Catholic Church as the established church of Quebec, set up a provisional council to run the colony, and (this is the big one) extended Quebec into the Ohio River Valley- you know the place that the colonists fought over in the French and Indian War and that Parliament decreed the American colonies couldn't go bout a decade ago cause they didn't want to fight with the Native Americans anymore, but are now suddenly allowing a Canadian colony rights to the land? Yeah that land.**

**Massachusetts Government Act**** \- This act put the entire colony under marshal law and revoked its charter and constitution, which was a big deal to colonists. It basically revoked all the colonists rights to town meetings and deciding who they wanted as their leaders. Governor Hutchinson had to step down from his position and then Parliament made General Gage the Royal Governor of Massachusetts, something colonists did not have a say in.**

**Administration of Justice Act**** \- This act basically did away with the entire justice system in Massachusetts. The colony was no longer allowed to self-govern and gave the new royal governor the right to send rebellious colonists away for trials in other colonies or back to England for a trial there. Basically it got rid of Habeas Corpus in Massachusetts.**

**Quartering**** Act****\- So this is the second Quartering Act passed by Parliament, the first one being back in 1765. This Act didn't really change anything that was set by the first act. Basically the only thing was an addition to the act that allowed the royal governor to use force in housing soldiers. Before hand they had to be all polite about it if you didn't want to house them. Now they could basically shove you out of the way and make themselves at home and you could do absolutely nothing about it.**

**Haha I don't mean to overwhelm you guys with these history notes it's just that there's SO MUCH to put down! Anyways I didn't put this up top but thank you to everyone who's jumped on board since the last update and hugs to everyone who reviewed.**

**And yes Naraloo as much as I hate it this will most definitely end with many people including England and myself in tears**

**I'll try and update soon but until then stay classy :)**


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

_"The distinctions between Virginians, Pennsylvanians, New Yorkers, and New Englanders are no more. I Am Not A Virginian, But An American!"_

_\- Patrick Henry _

_America - October, 1774_

America held in her groan of frustration and attempted her best to look attentive as she watched the delegates of Virginia and New York get into yet _another_ argument. It wasn't unexpected per say, along with Massachusetts the three sets of delegates had, metaphorically, been at each other's throats- usually it was Massachusetts and Virginia ganging up on New York -since September when they had all first gathered in Philadelphia for this so-called 'Continental Congress'.

It had been quite a news maker in the colonies, each one sending a batch of representatives chosen by the people to represent them and have them try to figure out how they should respond to England.

Honestly, America loved the idea of her people putting their differences aside for once and try to work towards a common goal. It was simply that quickly into these meetings, which had been held just about every day, she'd lost interest in the subject. She was a woman of action and had never been able to sit still for long periods of time. Of course she had tried for England, but alas she could not fight her nature anymore than the next, and listening to men arguing inanely with each other wasn't exactly helping.

She'd accompanied John and Sam to Philadelphia as they had been chosen to represent the colonists of Massachusetts along with Thomas Cushing and Robert Treat Paine. John had argued that she stay in Quincy with Mrs. Adams but a quick reminder from his cousin about what she truly was had John adding an extra piece of luggage to the carriage while America and Sam exchanged victorious smiles.

She sat with those in the Massachusetts delegation- it was explained to the other delegations that she was John's niece and he felt compelled to keep a close eye on her while she was under his care -and watched the proceedings with sky blue eyes slowly glazing over.

Every colony besides Georgia had sent representatives and it was in Carpenter's Hall that they all gathered- it had been a bit hectic at first, nearly a dozen representatives had shown up late. They had also sent an invitation to Canada but he along with his people had refused to come- perhaps she could visit her northern brother and attempt to talk with him, it had been quite a while since they last saw each other. They had all come in with the hopes of coming to a quick resolution and showing a determined, united front against England, but it was quickly realized that each colony had come with very different agendas than the next.

The representatives had quickly been grouped into three distinct groups: those who sought a complete break from England, those who wished to reconcile with the Empire, and then there were those who stood in the middle.

America found that she was standing quite firmly in the middle herself, sympathizing with Virginia and Massachusetts who cried about the injustices wrought against them while also wanting to attempt to preserve her ties to the Empire along with New York and Pennsylvania.

Still though, amongst all the arguing and bickering there were moments of stunning clarity when men like Patrick Henry and Samuel Adams spoke, two firecrackers joining forces with their natural charisma in their attempts to sway the other colonists in favor of independence that would cause America's blood to start pounding. Of course, it would immediately invite John Jay and John Dickson (New York and Pennsylvania representatives respectively) to stand up and argue against independence.

"We must attempt to reconcile with Parliament! We need the protection the Empire offers!"

"Well fuck Parliament and fuck the bloody Empire!"

"Mr. Patrick! There is a lady present!"

Then there were the men who simply watched silently like America, merely taking it all in with little to offer in return. The one who really caught her attention was a giant of a man who sat next to Mr. Henry in the Virginian delegation.

Mr. George Washington was his name, a hulking man with the best damn straight face she had ever seen. He rarely spoke, more or less whispering quietly to Patrick Henry- honestly it seemed as if Virginia had sent Mr. Washington merely to attempt to keep Mr. Henry in line -but his presence was more than tangible in the room.

John had yet to introduce the two of them though she was awfully curious. She was able to absorb a few facts about the mysterious man from listening to the other men. Apparently, Mr. Washington was a bit of a big-shot back in Virginia and had been a part of the colonial division of the British Army, fighting in the French and Indian war. He was well respected and America was quite dying to meet him eventually.

She had a strange feeling that they'd be seeing a lot more of each other in the future.

...

America yawned and stretched her arms over her head as they walked down the streets of Philadelphia, John and Samuel on either side of her. Today had been the last day of debates and the Congress had been ended for the time being. The delegates had decided that they'd meet again in 1775. The trio were to spend this last day in the inn that had been booked for them for the duration of the Congress before beginning the journey back to Quincy.

They were all eager to return. Mrs. Adams had been sending letters quite regularly, tensions had been running high between colonists and soldiers and militias were being formed but as of yet there has been no major violence, but they wanted to see what was happening for themselves.

"I can't help be but feel that this Continental Congress has been just one big waste of time," Samuel muttered as they walked. America couldn't help sympathizing with the man. Much like herself, Samuel was more a man of action than words, and very little of what he'd hoped for had been accomplished with these debates.

"It may seem that way," John agreed, choosing his words carefully. "But this is to be expected. Never before have the colonists shown any interest in anything outside their own borders. The simple fact that an overwhelming majority of the colonies came to this Congress is groundbreaking and speaks volumes about the injustices of the Crown. Not everyone is as ready for independence as you Sam, but the Articles of Association is a fine place to start in my opinion."

Ah yes, one of the few things the delegates had actually agreed upon. A document that listed all of the colonial grievances to the King and called on the colonies to stop importing British goods beginning December 1st if the Intolerable Acts were not repealed. There had been a large amount of support for Joseph Galloway's plan. Named the Galloway Plan of Union it had called for the creation of an American Parliament that would work together with the existing Parliament in England. The idea had been taken down though after Paul Revere had rode from Massachusetts to deliver the Suffolk's Resolves before the delegates. It had polarized the conservatives and radicals even more than previously and allowed the radicals to gain a majority vote to get rid of the Plan of Union.

Though to appeal to the colonies who wished to remain attached to the Empire the Declaration of Rights and Grievances was passed: a re-affirmation that the colonies were loyal to the Empire, but it disputed Parliament's right to tax them. This forced England to make the final decision that would ultimately either win the colonies back for him or paint him as a villainous tyrant.

That night America sat on her bed, the small dark room illuminated only by the candlestick by her bedside and the weak moonlight streaming through the window. Through the thin walls she could hear John and Sam shift around in their beds as they slept in the room next door, it was quite late out after all. In front of her sat a small travel size wooden chess set that John had brought down with them to pass the time. Samuel had no patience for the game but America was more than a worthy adversary for John. She had decades of experience in learning the art of chess, England had made sure of that.

He was a master in the art manipulation and she had never beaten him, not even once.

She theorized that this back and forth tug of war between the two of them was quite like a game of chess. She could almost guarantee that England thought of it as such. Perhaps, in this very moment, he was sitting in his study, his handcrafted, ebony chess set sitting before him as well. Carefully, she picked up her pawn and boldly moved it forward. Sitting back against the headrest she eyed the ominous line of black pieces warily.

She had just made her move.

Now it was time for England to make his.

…

_April, 1775_

She could still hear the sounds of gunshots echoing in her head, could smell the acrid scent of gunpowder, smoke, and blood creating an unholy mixture in the air as if she had stood with those Minutemen, had watched them face an entire British column and stand tall even though they were mere farm boys against a disciplined army, had watched as the British lost their composure on their retreat to Boston and looted and burned for spite.

She walked through Lexington, taking in the state of the town and only imagining what it would be in Concord. Families were still in the process of grieving, many of the ninety brave men who had perished had yet to be given a proper burial. She felt her eyes prick with tears as one agonized wail echoed across the entire town, rattling her to her core.

All of this pain and suffering over an alleged storehouse of gunpowder and two men.

Soundlessly, she glided over to one man who'd yet to be accounted for. She felt her heart break slightly upon seeing chocolate brown eyes staring sightlessly at the overcast skies above, his right hand still tightly gripping his rifle, and it broke more still as she realized that he was not yet even sixteen years old- a mere boy attempting to defend his home and family.

She knelt into the wet grass, the thought that the grass might stain her skirt didn't even present itself to her, and with a surprisingly steady hand closed his eyes. Moving her hand to card through thick hair now she felt herself repress the urge to wail just as loudly as that nameless woman had done just a few minutes prior. This should not have happened. This boy should be sitting at the kitchen table of his home right now, eating his mother's cooking, or out in the fields assisting his father in planting this year's crops. He should not have felt the need to pick up a rifle.

He should not have _died_.

_None_ of them should have died.

She could at least take some solace in that England hadn't gotten what he'd come marching through here for. Though the loss of the cannons and other weapons that had been stored in Mr. Jones' tavern had been a blow, the majority of the weapons had been kept safe from the hands of the British thanks to the ingenuity of her people. There was also the added knowledge that both Samuel Adams and John Hancock had safely escaped and were currently en route to a safe house.

England could go on and on about how her militia's tactics were 'barbaric' and 'ungentlemanly' but at the end of the day the only brute America saw was England. This was the last straw. America could no longer simply let bygones be bygones and return willingly into the arms of the man who'd shot her children down.

She felt Patrick Henry's words swirled inside of her as she pried the rifle away from the dead child and cradled it in her arms:

_"Is life so dear or peace so sweet as to be purchased at the price of chains and slavery? Forbid it, Almighty God. I know not what course others may take, but as for me, give me liberty or give me death!"_

**And the war has officially kicked off with the iconic 'Shot heard 'round the world'!**

**I was not intending to start and end with Patrick Henry but I find it oddly fitting given the context of the chapter.**

**Alright I'm going to try and keep this as brief as I can as to not overwhelm anyone:**

**1st Continental Congress**** \- So this Congress was in response to the Intolerable Acts (AKA Coercive Acts) that England slammed down on Massachusetts after the Boston Tea Party. Basically the colonies realized that they needed to show some sort of united front to England to try and make the King and Parliament back off. Twelve of the thirteen colonies showed up in Carpenter's Hall in Philadelphia (Georgia was too busy fighting with Native American's to send anyone + they needed British troop support). Canada had been given an invite too but they declined. The goal of the 1st Congress wasn't independence though there was some push for it (cough*SamandPatrick*cough). The goal was to 1) show a united front and 2) try and figure out how to respond _reasonably_ to England. There were a lot of agendas pushed in the discussions and there was a lot of mistrust to get over since before this colonists never cared about other colonies because each of them were so independent. They did manage a few things though:**

**Articles of Association**** -**** This basically said that the colonists would start boycotting British goods again and even set up an embargo on exports if Parliament didn't repeal the Intolerable Acts within a certain window of time.**

**Declaration of Rights and Grievances****\- This was the colonists' list of grievances to the King. Even though many didn't believe this would do anything, everyone wanted to try and diffuse the tension between the two of them anyway they could. It's important to note that they didn't send a similar letter to Parliament, only the King got one. This was done to show that it was Parliament that they had beef with, not the King.**

**Galloway Plan of**** Union \- This was ultimately struck down due to the Suffolk's Resolves but beforehand had had a lot of support. It basically wanted to set up an American Parliament that would work in conjunction with the British Parliament.**

**The Congress dissolved in October nearly a month after it had been convened and the delegates promised to hold another Congress there again in 1775. They did end up meeting again for the 2nd Continental Congress, but this one was geared towards war with the British Empire rather than reconciliation all due to the actions at Lexington and Concord.**

**Battle of Lexington and Concord, 1775**** \- This is one of the most well known battles of the revolution(AKA shot heard 'round the world), though in truth it was more of a few skirmishes then an all out battle like we see later on. Tories (British sympathizers) told General Gage that there was a large store of ammunition being piled up in Concord (this was somewhat true. There were weapons there but not nearly as many as the Tories claimed) and that Samuel Adams and John Hancock were hiding out in Lexington (by this point both men are fugitives wanted by the Crown). So General Gage planned to send a British column from Boston to Concord to retrieve the fugitives as well as destroy all the ammunition storehouses. It was supposed to be secret but by this point Boston is swarming with spies and Dr. Joseph Warren is able to send Paul Revere, William Dawes, and Dr. Samuel Prescott out to warn everyone. **

**I'm sure everyone knows the story of Paul Revere's midnight ride 'one if by land, two if by sea' and that did indeed happen, but contrary to popular belief Revere never shouted "The British are coming!". Most colonists at that time still considered themselves to be British so everyone would have been _so_ confused. It's more likely that he shouted something along the lines of, "The Regulars are coming!", Regulars being a common name associated with the British military. Revere only ever made it to Lexington, he was stopped on the way to Concord by British soldiers. It was Dawes and Prescott that alerted Concord that the British army was on its way.**

**There was a small stand made in Lexington, no one on either side actually wanted to be the first to shoot, they just wanted to scare the other side off and in the militias case stall for time. When the British threatened them the Minutemen dispersed (aptly named for their ability to be ready to fight at a moments notice) and hid behind fences and houses. No one knows who actually fired first, but it caused the British to fire back and kill eight while wounding ten others. The British then moved onto Concord when they figured that Sam and John had escaped, where they met a greater amount of resistance but the minutemen dispersed into the woods after firing a shot at the British. When the cost was clear the British moved to destroy the supposed weapons, but thanks to the early warnings the fight at Lexington was able to stall the British long enough for colonists to moved the majority of the weapons to new hiding places so they only found a small portion of what was there. **

**On their way back to Boston is when the minutemen made their move. By this point several town's worth of militia had gathered and used guerrilla tactics to pick off the rear of the British column. This eventually caused the soldiers to lose their order and they lashed out at this 'ungentlemanly' form of warfare by setting random houses on fire or looting them. **

**In a way this marked the ending of British America and the beginning of the United States of America**

**Okay now that the history is done I can chat about other stuff, like how ridiculously long it's been since I've posted a chapter for this story though updating late/irregularly is nothing new if you've followed any of my other stories**

**Also I'm ridiculously happy with how many people have started following/favoriting this story since my last update and the reviews have been fantastic *hugs to everyone!***

**I'll try updating soon but my finals are coming up in two weeks (I only have to take two but still) and I have some big final school projects due next week so don't be surprised if shows up sometime else.**

**Leave a review and have an awesome day!**


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

_"If there must be trouble, let it be in my day, that my child may have peace."_

_\- Tom Paine _

_America - November, 1775_

"Matt! Mattie open the door before my toes freeze off!" America yelled as she slammed her mittened fist against the thick wooden door that provided entry into her brother's cabin. She shifted her weight back and forth, trying to keep warm against the sharp fall chill that seemed to perpetually invade her brother's land, while listening for any signs of movement inside. It had yet to snow up here, but the current the weather was certainly foreshadowing its arrival.

She was positive that England was still down in Boston and hadn't been able to sneak away at any point since the town had been surrounded by militiamen- she had trusted Dr. Warren's words the very last time they had spoken. She only wished she could have done more before his untimely passing -so she felt no fear of him possibly being here. There was always the chance that he had somehow gotten Canada to sneak into Boston and there was no one inside, but America had to hope that Canada had not made any decisions in regards to the fighting between his sister and guardian.

This whole visit hinged on him still being receptive and pliable to her cause.

She was just beginning to contemplate banging on the door again, honestly the winds around here cut through wool like it was nothing, when she heard a faint shuffling of feet inside, just barely perceptible even with her enhanced hearing. Barely holding back a grin she waited a few more seconds before the door opened just enough for her brother to poke his head out, violet-blue eyes widening in surprise at the sight of his twin sister standing in front of him.

"A-America?" America felt her lips tug downwards into a frown at the formal name, the urge to hug him dying away. Canada hadn't called America by her official name since they had first been reintroduced to each other back in 1763.

"Hey Mattie, mind letting your sister in?" she asked, allowing her voice to take on a gentle tone. Canada studied her for another minute, America fidgeting slightly under the intense gaze, before he sighed and opened the door wider in invitation. America quickly hurried indoors, heading straight for the crackling fire in the living room, and sighing in relief as the heat of the flames chased the chill off.

Canada's cabin was quite a bit different than her colonial back in Boston, but different was not necessarily a bad thing. There was a certain warmth and coziness that simply couldn't be replicated as easily in the Bostonian house. Unlike the colonial which was filled with mostly imported furniture and goods from England, everything in the cabin was handcrafted in the Quebec colony from the striped rug beneath her feet to the pine coffee table and couch standing a few feet from herself and the fire. It made America a little jealous inside at how freely Canada was able to express his own culture in his house while anything she created was immediately taken to be reproduced in the mother country and then sold back to her colonists at a higher price.

"Would you like some tea?" Canada asked, watching her warm up from the edge of the room.

"No thanks," America replied, her nose automatically wrinkling in distaste at the mere mention of tea. She had never enjoyed tea as much as England had and now that she was on her own to an extent she had taken to experimenting with coffee beans. It wasn't great, she still needed practice, but it was preferable to tea at any rate.

"Do you have any hot cocoa?" America asked. Chocolate was quite expensive in the colonies as it had to be shipped from colonies down in South America, but America knew that Canada had quite the sweet tooth, especially when it came to chocolates, so it was a safe bet to assume that he had some hoarded away somewhere. As she guessed, Canada nodded and disappeared around the wall, presumably off to the kitchen to prepare their drinks. America herself was more than content to simply stand in front of the open fire place until her brother returned, a mug in one hand and porcelain tea cup in the other.

She took the mug from him with a quiet murmur of thanks before the two of them sat on the couch- America did not let it escape her the amount of space Canada had placed between them. As they sipped their respective drinks in silence America finally really looked at her brother.

The last time she had seen him was back in 1773 before she had fled the house she had shared with England in Boston. Thankfully, when she had fled Canada was still being escorted up the colonies back to his home or else she may have never escaped unnoticed. At the time due to the differences in the development of their colonies, Canada had appeared the human age of ten while America had been sixteen. Since those three years little had changed, she noted sadly, though he had grown a bit more. He was probably around the human age of twelve if she had to guess, his wavy blond hair perhaps a tad longer than the last time she'd seen it. Other than that though there wasn't much else that she could pick up on.

It was strange, and slightly infuriating, to see such slow growth in her brother while she herself had grown at a rapid pace (though England always did note that her growth was abnormal, even for their kind) and know that if he just allowed himself to be free of England's greedy hands that he too could grow to reach his full potential. Perhaps she could use that to convince him.

Canada seemed to be sizing her up as well and America waited until there was nothing left in her mug and that Canada seemed done with his tea as well before starting. She took a deep breath and squared her shoulders to him, a determined glint in her eye as she looked at Canada. She opened her mouth and-

"I know you didn't come here just to exchange pleasantries with me America," Canada stated quietly as he placed his tea cup gently on the pine coffee table in front of the couch, cutting America off. "England has been writing to me, telling me of the disagreements you two have been having." America grumbled under her breath at that, so England called all of the blood already shed between them simple _disagreements_ did he? He considered Lexington and Concord a _disagreement_?

_Bunker Hill_ was a _disagreement_ between the two?

Canada ignored her, simply giving her a pointed look that clearly said: _explain exactly why you are sitting in my livingroom right now._

America sighed and opened her mouth once again to speak.

"I want you to join me against England," she stated bluntly, not one for subterfuge especially when she was speaking to someone she considered family, perhaps her only family. She watched as Canada's eyes widened slightly in surprise but the hard, thin line of his mouth made it clear that he had been anticipating it.

"I don't know what lies England has told you," she continued, "but these _disagreements_ we are having are not improving between the two of us, they are growing worse each passing day. To be honest, I don't think we'll ever be able to return to the way things once were." No, definitely not after all damage that England had already brought down upon her people. She knew that most of her people still opposed breaking off from England, and if need be she would set her pride aside and remain a British colony if the King and her colonists ended up working things out in the end. Truly, she did not want to pick up arms against England, but too many bridges had already burned between them for Amelia to ever truly reconcile with Arthur.

"Are you planning to go to war against him?" Canada asked. America sighed. Now that was a tricky question.

"As of right now, all the majority of my people want is to reconcile with the King and Parliament. If England is willing to listen to reason we are more than willing to lay down our arms and find peace with them again." She answered. America's expression turned dark though as she added, "However, if he continues to violate our rights then we will have no choice but to fight for our freedom,"

"It is foolish to stand up against him," Canada reasoned. "He is the head of the largest empire since Rome, he would crush you like a bug if you tried to resist."

"Perhaps," America admitted with a bitter edge to her words. "I know that my people are not prepared for this war. Very few have any experience with a gun and even less have seen an actual battle. However, if both the colonies of British America and Canada stood together, then perhaps it will cause England to hesitate. Surely you must see, England isn't thinking straight. He thinks since he has a large empire that he can do whatever he wants regardless of the lives it costs him, consequences be damned!" Canada's gaped at her as she swore, truly Sam had become a bad influence on her.

"No."

The simple, one-worded answer rang with finality and America suddenly felt winded as if the butt of a rifle had been slammed into her gut.

"Haven't you heard about what he's done to my people! Children are being shot down and people are starving in the streets while his soldiers gorge themselves on stolen food!" America cried passionately, her voice rising in accord with her emotions. "He toys with their livelihoods before tossing them off to the side to be forgotten. He sees nothing in me but natural resources to drain and second-rate citizens to be used in the place of slaves! And don't think he cares anything for you either! You were simply the spoils of war in an effort to gain a complete monopoly of the New World, nothing more, nothing less!"

America felt her chest heave as she breathed rapidly, her face red from exertion. Canada simply stared back at her with calm violet-blue eyes, not even a single feather seemingly unruffled- though a part of her mind realized that she must have hurt Canada with the remembrance of his forceful separation from France. She knew that he didn't like to be reminded of why England had really gone after him.

She took a deep breath and forced herself to calm down. She was trying to convince her brother that she was a better option than England. Yelling at him was not the way to go about this.

"I am simply trying to save you from the same fate that has befallen me," she stated seriously.

"I understand that, but my answer is still no," he replied calmly.

"Why?"

"While it is true that I do not care for Arthur in the same capacity that you once did, I cannot ignore the facts, and the facts tell me that should you stand against Arthur you will lose swiftly regardless of my involvement on either side. There is also the fact that while you and I may be considered close, our people do not like each other nearly as much and have become comfortable with British rule since I was… signed away."

"So you are willing to pick up arms against your own sister?" America questioned, her voice hesitant. There was a long pause as Canada searched for a suitable answer.

"Only if I must," he answered eventually, his quiet voice plunging the room into an icy silence as it was America's turn to gape at Canada. So, that was it. Canada would not join her, but he would join England and even raise a gun at her if ordered to do so. She felt her eyes burn and swiftly turned her head away so Canada could not see the tears brewing.

"I think you should leave now."

America nodded mutely in agreement and together they rose and shuffled to the door- America mechanically buttoning up her wool cloak and mentally preparing herself for both the cold and the delegates waiting for her answer back in Philadelphia. They certainly would not be pleased with her efforts. She turned to face him before leaving, but found that she could not meet his eye, instead staring at the wooden floor boards.

"Thank you… thank you for being honest with me," America said quietly, perhaps in the quietest voice she had ever managed. America didn't wait for a response, turning on her heels and opening the door to walk away. She was glad for the cutting wind now as it gave her an excuse as to why she felt so cold inside. It was the wind biting so harshly that was causing her eyes to tear up. On the edge of the woods surrounding her brother's home she turned back and looked at the small cabin nestled away, a thin, steady stream of smoke coming up from the chimney. The door had already been closed and she supposed that Canada was already back in the livingroom cleaning up their drinks.

"When you join," she spoke quietly, her voice carried on the wind- for they both knew England would force Canada to fight with him.

"I pray we do not meet."

_For I do not know if _I _could raise my rifle against you._

...

_America - July 4, 1776_

America was positively beaming today, there was simply no other word to describe her. Her eyes were practically glowing and each step she took had an extra bounce to it.

She had never imagined that this day would come, it had filled her with nervous dread every time she so much as dared entertain the thought. She was sure the moment she said _that_ word aloud that everything would fall apart and England would come barging in to drag her back to Boston, or, even worse, she'd wake up in her bed and have the cold realization hit her that it had all been a cruel dream.

She knew this was real though, that she was standing on solid ground and the men milling restlessly around her were not mere specters, that the long piece of parchment resting atop the table at the head of the room contained that special word in its title that made America feel she could grow wings and fly until she touched the sun.

There was a celebratory air in the room, watered down slightly by the seriousness of what these men were doing. For each of the fifty-six men who would sign this historic document would be forever now considered liable of high treason and hung until dead if ever caught by the British. John Hancock was the first to sign the parchment, his signature large and sprawling, practically leaving no room for everyone else.

"There! His Majesty can now read my name without glasses. And he can double the reward on my head!" he declared, a large grin on his face as he strutted like a peacock. Everyone smiled at the man's enthusiasm, some muttering that his signature fit the size of his ego, and soon men were lining up for a chance to sign their names and make history. Samuel's grin threatened to split his face in two as he signed his name with flourish, his cousin rolling his eyes at Samuel's childish glee before he too signed his own name with a more subdued smile.

The proudest man in the room to sign his name by far though was the one who wrote it. Thomas Jefferson's eyes shone with repressed emotion as he signed his name. He received appreciative whistles and hardy claps on the back afterwards as he made his way over to where America was standing against the wall.

"I imagine this is a big day for you," America said with a light smile. She had been with him as he'd written it, the intensely concentrated look in his eye and lips pressed tightly together in frustration whenever he got stuck, watched as their small committee carefully read his manuscripts over and over again, Ben Franklin and John Adams and Roger Livingston and Roger Sherman helping to edit it, rewriting it until it was perfect.

"It is," Thomas agreed. "It is a big day for you as well."

"Well, it is my first birthday after all," America joked, causing Thomas to chuckle.

She had expanded the group of humans who knew her true identity. Thomas was obviously one, Ben Franklin and George Washington were two others. It was an impossibly small group, but America had been taught that not all humans are trustworthy, that she must pick and choose whom to tell the truth to with the utmost care. She had felt almost compelled to with Thomas, after all the words he wrote would define her for, hopefully, centuries to come, and she wanted him to know that his country appreciated what he had done for her.

She had been introduced to Ben Franklin through John, the latter speaking highly of the former. Ben was an eccentric man in both personality and style- she found the fur cap that he wore in place of a wig to be strange but endearing -and an inventor at heart, America immediately bonding with him over the research he had done in regards to lightning and the electricity it emitted.

Her introduction to Mr. Washington had been a bit more rushed than she would have preferred, but she was more than aware that he had pressing issues to attend to now that he had been appointed commander-in-chief of the Continental Army. It was impossible to garner a reaction from him when her secret was revealed, he had merely stared at her calmly for a few moments before apologizing that he needed to leave.

The only thing that had spoiled the meeting was that afterwards she was told by John that she could not fight alongside Washington and his men against England. She had nearly screamed in pure frustration as John calmly explained that it was for her protection, that she was more likely to get in Washington's way, and that men could handle this. There was apparently no place for a woman on the battlefield, no matter how old she was in comparison to those around her. Instead John and the Congress had found other work for her to do, and while she was still frustrated she complied as she knew that complaining about it would not help win this war.

"Well then, happy birthday Amelia," he told her with a smile before a delegate from across the room called Thomas over and he was forced to excuse himself. America was not left alone for long though as Ben soon took his spot beside her.

"Enjoying the party?"

"Indeed," America replied. "I could not have asked for a better birthday gift than the one you have all given me."

"I aim to please all my lady friends," Ben joked with a smile. His tone dropped though to a more serious tone. "I shall be leaving again shortly to return to France and continue to press for an alliance. I cannot take you with me this time, but I will return when I have good tidings to bear." America nodded in understanding. The Congress had realized fairly early on into this struggle that they could not truly hope to beat England with the supplies they had. They needed foreign assistance, not only to recognize the colonies' independence and legitimize them in the face of the world, but also for supplies, mainly those of military nature.

Naturally, France was the first country they turned to.

They also reached out to Spain as the two European countries were traditionally allies and both liked to use any excuse in order to declare war on England, but they focused mainly on France. If England was seeking foreign support then it was only fair that America did as well.

She had never met either France or Spain. England had always preferred to handle his business with foreign nations back in his country or at least far away from America. Canada had told her a little about France from the time he used to be owned by the European nation when England wasn't around and America pestered him enough. He was apparently a light blond, somewhere between their golden hair color and England's straw blond hair, and had pale blue eyes. He valued appearances very much and like England had a rather large ego, but that he was kind and accommodating. Other than that the man was a complete blank, unless she chose to go off of what England had always told her which would make him a scummy frog lacking any common decency as well as a backbone.

She supposed that she wouldn't know whose description was more accurate until she met him.

Walking over to the where the celebrated parchment lie, America felt a lump form in her throat and her eyes sting with tears. Tears of pure, unbridled joy. She touched the parchment reverently, her mind already memorizing the smell of dried ink that hung around it, the smooth, crisp feel of it beneath her fingertips, the beautifully sloping calligraphy, the way the candle lights cast flickering shadows as they danced. Like a starved man placed before a feast her eyes devoured the text, savoring each and every word and ingraining it into her very soul.

_The unanimous Declaration of the thirteen united States of America,_

_When in the Course of human events, it becomes necessary for one people to dissolve the political bands which have connected them with another, and to assume among the powers of the earth, the separate and equal station to which the Laws of Nature and of Nature's God entitle them, a decent respect to the opinions of mankind requires that they should declare the causes which impel them to the separation._

_We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness… We, therefore, the Representatives of the united States of America, in General Congress, Assembled, appealing to the Supreme Judge of the world for the rectitude of our intentions, do, in the Name, and by Authority of the good People of these Colonies, solemnly publish and declare, That these United Colonies are, and of Right ought to be Free and Independent States_

She liked the sound of her new name… the United States of America.

Yes, she believed that she could get quite used to it.

**... and now we are officially at war with England!**

**History time!**

**OCs ~**

**Thomas Jefferson \- Our third future President, Jefferson grew up into an elite plantation family in Virginia. He got a degree in law and served in Virginia's local government. He was a part of the Second Continental Congress and was a big supporter of independence. He was tasked with writing up the Declaration of Independence with the help of a committee. Afterwards he returned back to Virginia and became a member of the Virginia House of Delegates. He helped to establish freedom of religion and separation of church and state in Virginia. He became governor of Virginia during the Revolution and only held the office for two terms before stepping down. In the years after the Revolution Jefferson would eventually become Franklin's successor as Minister to France.**

**Benjamin Franklin \- One of the most eccentric men in all of the colonies, this man dabbled in a little bit of everything. He organized America's first volunteer fire department and lending library and did research into electricity (the infamous kite experiment) and other subjects. He was a successful publisher, coming to own the _Pennsylvania Gazette_ and writing _Poor Richard's Almanack. _He had many connections with England's elite and therefore became the representative of Massachusetts, Pennsylvania, Georgia, and New Jersey. He was a part of the Second Continental Congress and was on the committee that helped write the Declaration of Independence. Afterwards he was sent to France (almost all of France fell inlove with him) to get the King of France to sign an alliance.**

**Battle of Bunker Hill****\- This was the first real 'battle' between the British and Americans. Basically, minutemen surrounded Boston and laid siege. They wanted to keep a close eye on British troop movements and also take the high ground before the other side could. Originally, the fortifications were supposed to be set up on Bunker Hill but the colonists chose Breed's Hill instead which was slightly smaller but closer to Boston. So technically this should have been named the Battle of Breed's Hill. General Gage had had enough of the colonists breathing down his throat and Major General Howe and Brigadier General Pigot to take the hill. The British landed in Charleston and basically burned it to the ground before continuing on to Breed's Hill. The colonists weren't prepared for the number of British soldiers and had a limited ammunition supply so they were ordered not to shoot "until you see the whites of their eyes!". After the third wave of British troops the colonists were overrun and forced to retreat so technically it's considered a victory for England, but the death count ratio definitely favored the colonists with 200 dead and 800 injured for England and only about 100 dead and 300 injured for America.**

**Canadian involvement in the Revolutionary War**** \- Yes for all of you shaking your head in confusion, Canada DID participate in the Revolutionary War. However, since he was a colony of England at the time all of his actions and men get lumped together with England's so anything done by a Canadian was written down as done by the British. Poor Canada getting the spot light stolen from him.**

**Anyways at the time of the war colonists in the two colonies did not like each other _at all_. There were a lot of reasons for this, namely that Canada was predominantly Catholic while American colonists were Protestant (historically these two groups do _not_ play nice in close quarters) and then the whole 'you're French and I'm English and therefore on principle we hate each other' thing which didn't go away after Canada was incorporated into the British Empire. Then there was the whoie fiasco with the Quebec Act of 1774 that both recognized the Catholic church in Quebec but also allowed the Canadians to have access to the Ohio River Valley area.**

**And on top of all of that Canadians at this point had accepted British rule and were generally content with England ruling over them. So adding all these factors together it isn't much of a surprise to see that Canada turned America down on its offer to unite in favor of keeping ties with England. They didn't necessarily declare war or anything (they are a colony and don't have that power) but gave manpower and arms to English troops, as well as provided a safe staging area for men like General Burgoyne, who sailed straight down through the American colonies on the Hudson from Canada.**

**The Declaration of**** Independence \- AKA the reason why we celebrate the 4th of July every year while other countries roll their eyes at us (not cool guys). Written by Thomas Jefferson, it was America's formal declaration of war against England and symbolizes the point of no return between the two countries. It stated that America should be independent and their reasons for breaking away from England. It was then signed by 56 delegates. There was a ton of editing that went into it and large chunks of it removed as Jefferson mentioned rights for slaves as well and that just didn't fly back in the 1700s (man was ahead of his time).**

**Alright history time is over. **

**I'm sure some of you are curious about the way I portrayed America and Canada. A lot of revolutionary fics that include the two of them have America and Canada practically at each other's throats but I just don't see it going down that way. For one, Canada is like the most chillax country ever, so I don't think he'd get all worked up into a frenzy about siding with England. Also even though their people don't get along my headcannon is that America and Canada as people do- so there isn't nearly as much hostility between the two when they interact, more of just familial bickering. Since they're close I believe that America would feel more hurt than anything at Canada's decision, yes angry too, but not angry enough to go flipping tables or anything. (1812 is a completely different story)**

**Also hello there to new readers! So happy to see that you'd decided to hop on board!**

**I think that we're about halfway through the Revolutionary War part of this fic, probably three of four more chapters before we move on I think.**

**I'll see you guys later! (And don't forget to leave a review, just saying hi is totally fine)**


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

"_It does not take a majority to prevail… but rather an irate, tireless minority, keen on setting brushfires of freedom in the minds of men" _

_\- Samuel Adams_

_France - September, 1777_

_So this how Europeans live_, America thought to herself in a daze as she stood in Versailles. The entire palace, or at least what she had seen of it so far, was a living piece of art with its elegant chandeliers hanging from the ceiling, dripping with diamonds, marble statues lining the sides of the room, and columns laid into the walls. The ceiling itself was a masterpiece all on its own with its sprawling murals depicting the glory of the heavens. America had never felt more plain and uncultured standing next to such decadence and majesty.

Ben Franklin and Silas Deane stood in the room with her, both also in silent awe even though they'd been here many times in the past year in their attempts to form an official alliance with France. Seeing such wealth and power displayed in such a flamboyant, borderline excessive, manner apparently never got old.

It had taken patience on America's part, but eventually Ben had returned back to the colonies with good news in the form of Marquis de Lafayette, a nineteen-year-old aristocrat whom wished to serve the Continental Army without pay. There had been some grumblings in the Congress about this, they wanted foreign support but not in the form of soldiers. However, they couldn't just turn him away without hurting attempts at an alliance with France so they sent him to Washington as a Major General.

Having a brief chance to observe Lafayette before he was sent out to the front America came to the conclusion that Washington would find him to be a welcomed addition. With such inexperienced generals and officers bumbling around without a clue, the Marquis's knowledge of European-styled battle tactics would be a relief to Washington and hopefully guide the army to more victories, which they sorrily needed in order to convince France that the colonies were a sound investment to make.

America was here in France by both John and Ben's request to the Congress. They figured that her speaking to France would be the best way to convince Louis XVI to sign an official alliance. Not to mention the side benefit that it kept America from sneaking away to the battlefield to try and assist General Washington- something which she was still quite bitter about.

Ben had sent a letter ahead of their arrival to the current French Foreign Minister Comte de Vergennes, Charles Gravier, whom had been acting as an intermediary between the American diplomats and his King, so that the French, and more importantly the personification himself, were not caught off guard when she arrived. They had received a letter in return stating that both Gravier and France could not wait to formally meet the personification of British America- _United States of America_, she had corrected in her head.

She was pulled from her musings by the sound of footsteps. Looking up she watched as three gentlemen made their way towards the Americans. One was an older looking fellow whom America presumed to be Gravier. He was a bit on the heavier side but nevertheless had a stately air about him, dressed lavishly in sapphire blue with a navy blue sash perched on one shoulder, and powdered wig sitting perfectly atop his head. The young brunette slightly behind him, also dressed lavishly but without so much flair, was most likely the scribe who would be writing down everything spoken between the two groups during this meeting.

It was the man striding beside Mr. Gravier that held America's attention though. Perhaps the same height as England, the man had a slim build and moved with that same unearthly grace and precision that she had witnessed time and again with England, and was graced with wavy, light blond hair- though a shade or so darker than England's straw blond hair and certainly lighter than her own, she noted -that fell to about his chin, a very well-groomed stubble on said chin, and pale blue eyes that America found herself comparing to the early morning sky. Of the trio he was the most excessively dressed and it was abundant that he cared very much for appearances, that or he was incredible vain. He seemed to be a god walking among mere mortals and beneath everything she felt some strange sort of connection to this stranger, as if they'd known each other before.

This, of which she was most certain of, must be France.

"Good morning gentlemen, and lady. I hope we have not kept you waiting long," Gavier spoke as the two groups neared each other.

"It is no problem at all," Ben replied with a smile, hiding his discomfort of standing around for such a long time, as he shook hands with Gavier. Deane greeted Gavier next and then it was America's turn.

"Ah, so you must be the young woman I was told about by Dr. Franklin," Gavier said as he came over. "It is an honor to meet you Ms. Kirkland."

"Just Amelia is fine," America spoke through gritted teeth, trying to shake off the unwanted feelings that came from her last name while retaining an air of pleasantness.

No one ever spoke to her using her last name nowadays, she never even introduced herself by her last name anymore, so she had almost forgotten about it until Gavier had unfortunately reminded her. It was one of those last stubborn ties she had to England, to Arthur, that she just hadn't been able to get rid of yet. Though bothersome, it was the least of her concerns at the moment with a war waging on her lands and besides that mess she had yet to decide what to change it to. She had spent sleepless nights thinking about it before, but nothing seemed to come to mind that stuck with her.

France seemed to watch her with interest as she introduced herself to him and curtseyed. When their eyes met for a moment she saw that he wasn't even trying to hide the slightly predatory glint in his eyes as they took in every inch of her appearance which had her turning red, and she had to remember that she couldn't go mucking up a potential alliance with a powerful European country just because she didn't enjoy the way she was being evaluated and ranked in his eyes.

As of right now, England's description of France was winning out over Canada's in her mind.

Introductions were made on the French side now, mainly for America's benefit, and France was introduced by the human name of Francis and was portrayed as merely a very high ranking noble whom was very close with the King, mainly for Deane and the scribe's benefit as they were out of the loop on the ulterior motive for this meeting. They migrated towards a much smaller, yet still excessive, room where a table and chairs were provided. The discussion between Gavier, Franklin, and Deane was very roundabout in America's opinion. While her two diplomats were pressing for an official alliance, the French foreign minister kept steering the conversation away to less pressing issues.

It was clear from America's position to see that the King was still unsure if the colonies were worth an official declaration of war with England. She wasn't surprised, she knew that her colonists were at a severe disadvantage in nearly every facet of this war, and that the Europeans were keenly aware of this. However, unlike European wars which were fought over land and money, her people were fighting for a very different cause: freedom. A war over an ideal is much different than a war over land, or at least America had come to believe so.

Now she only had to prove to others that this ideal was something worth fighting for.

Similar to America, France did not participate in the conversation between their people. He stayed quiet until about halfway through the meeting before he finally spoke.

"Mon dieu I believe we have all been sitting in this stuffy room for far too long," he declared as he interrupted Gavier, his English heavily accented as he stood and stretched like a cat. "I believe that now would be perfect for a small break!" Gavier seemed irritated at France's interruption but took it in stride.

"My companion is right. A small break would do us all good before we begin discussions again," Gavier agreed as he too rose, Ben and Deane following suit. They were led back out into the first room and Gavier called upon a servant to bring them some refreshments. Ben and Deane huddled together, most likely discussing further topics and strategies to propose once the meeting reconvened, while America drifted along the floor to once again take in all the beauty surrounding her.

"It is beautiful, non?"

America nearly jumped as she turned her head to see France standing beside her, she hadn't even heard his approach!

"Je suis désolé, I did not mean to startle you," he apologized upon seeing her sudden surprise, an impish grin on his face.

"No it's fine," America grimaced, she had a feeling he had done it on purpose. "I simply did not hear your approach is all."

"Ah, well I will try to make some noise next time," he promised. America felt her lips twitch upwards. "This room we are in is called la Galerie des Glaces, or in English the Hall of Mirrors," he continued in a conversational tone. "The palace itself was first built with the intentions of being a hunting lodge for one of my former Kings and was gradually transformed throughout the years into what you see today."

"It's gorgeous," America stated as she resumed looking around the room.

"I'm glad you agree," France replied with a smile. They stood for a few minutes in amiable silence before America broke it.

"I assume you understand why I am here," she stated, looking everywhere but at France in a sudden bout of nervousness. She had never spoken to another nation before besides England and Canada, and felt out of her element being so far away from home. Out of the corner of her eye she saw France nod. "They believe that my presence will somehow sway you to our cause, though I don't quite understand how."

"You are young," France answered bluntly, causing America to flush, "and Angleterre has made certain that you live a sheltered life under him, so of course you do not understand your place in these matters. Though we as nations cannot dictate our own history, and it is ultimately the choices of humans that shapes us, we have some small sphere of influence that we as personifications wield. This influence comes in the form of our relationships with other nations, both on a personal and impersonal will eventually find that ingratiating yourself to other nations can be just as effective in gaining allies as reputation alone. If two nations get along well with each other, their governments will be more inclined to form an alliance. If you and another nation do not get along so well, the resulting effect would be the opposite in many cases."

America nodded along, storing this little tidbit of advice to be mulled over later. It was strange to hear such wisdom coming from a man who looked to be just past the age of twenty-six. It was a strong reminder of just how old France truly was.

"This meeting between the two of us is to see how well we get along, and perhaps convince me to tell my King that he should strongly consider the going ons of the colonies to be his concern." As he spoke, France moved closer and America felt her face heating up as he put a hand on her waist, much lower than was appropriate.

"Well, I do hope that we come to an understanding soon," America said as she reached down to pry France's hand off of her. She watched in amusement as France's face contorted in pain as she used 'slightly' more force than was necessary in removing the offending appendage.

"Now, if you do excuse me I believe that our break time is nearly at an end and I must speak with Dr. Franklin before we reconvene," she spoke, barely restraining her smirk as she curtseyed, France holding his injured hand a tad closer to his body than normal.

"Thank you for speaking with me. It was... enlightening."

America remained quiet throughout the rest of the meeting, enjoying the furtive glances France made between his injured hand and herself when he believed that she was not looking. Perhaps he was finally beginning to realize just what America had to offer him.

…

_France, 1778_

At the end of her trip to France, nearly over a year later, America still could not decide which opinion of France she preferred. He was an odd nation that was for sure, and he did not seem to have any boundaries when it came to personal space- honestly his romantic tendencies borderlined pervertedness -but at times he was prone to fits of whimsy and wisdom that made America remember that he was an old and powerful nation and softened her opinion of him.

He had thankfully dropped all romantic pursuits with America after her not-so-subtle rejection at that first meeting, though he still liked to tease her about it at the most inopportune times. He proclaimed himself to be her 'Big Brother' and took it upon himself to show her all there is of French culture during her stay. It was endearing to watch him get lost in his own history as he retold it to her, she hoped one day that she would be old enough to do the same.

In the end she had achieved the mission she had been sent out on. As of February 6th, 1778 France officially recognized the United States of America and pledged to aid her in her quest for independence against the British Empire. It had been a long and hard-fought battle, letters coming in every one or two months with only news of another American loss.

The occupation of Philadelphia had been a huge blow to talks and America had been bedridden for a few days as the British looted and burned her city. The fires in New York the previous year that had caused blistering burn marks to bubble up along her arm had broken open again, and throughout the course of the year her body became a patchwork of cuts and bruises garnered from battles she hadn't even fought in that she had to bandage and hide underneath her dresses. She had wondered idly during her time resting in bed if this was how England had constantly felt whenever he came to visit her. She then quickly discarded the thought as she was with war with the nation, she couldn't give him any pity or sympathy.

It was with Saratoga that the French finally began to look favorably upon the American colonies and General Burgoyne's surrender had simply been icing on the cake to the weary nation. She pulled herself together to attend a ball in celebration of the upcoming alliance and had allowed herself to be whisked off her feet by a jovial France, even dancing a few songs with Ben when she could pull him away from the noble women whom seemed enamoured with the eccentric diplomat.

The alliance was not signed immediately, it took a few months in order to hash out all the specifications and what each nation would both contribute and receive. Eventually though it was signed, America even allowing France to kiss her on the cheek- "Just this once mind you!" -as a copy was made and shipped off to the colonies. They had celebrated that night with another ball and France even invited a few nations whom were interested in meeting the object of England's latest struggles.

Spain was a cheerful country, though perhaps even more oblivious than herself. Either that or he was better at masking his emotions than she was. Broad shouldered and olive skinned, Spain was slightly taller than France, and had chocolate brown hair and jade green eyes. He seemed interested by the prospect of declaring war against England, apparently he still held quite the grudge against the island nation dating back to the prime of his pirating days, and by the possibility of regaining Florida again.

Netherlands was definitely more intimidating comparably to America. Taller than both France and Spain, and that wasn't counting his hair, Netherlands was a very muscular looking country with spiky blond hair and amber eyes. He had a small scar running vertical down from his hairline- apparently no one knows how or when he got it -and had a blue and white striped scarf that he didn't go anywhere without. The atmosphere was a bit tense between Spain and Netherlands as the two personifications still weren't completely over Netherlands independence from Spain, but with France there the two were able to remain civil around each other. Netherlands was interested in America's revolution primarily because he made a lot of good money through trade with her colonists along with France- America got the feeling that there wasn't very much else that motivated him besides the prospect of money.

She also unfortunately found out that he was into younger women, and had to restrain herself from punching him when he touched her butt. Thankfully, France swooped in and guided Netherlands away before she did something rash- the irony was not lost on her and she supposed that perverts had to stick together.

Regardless of the molestation, it was gratifying to see that other nations were willing to recognize her, even if it was only to spite England. There was one last country that America was supposed to meet with on the day she departed, apparently he and France were on good terms for the moment and he felt compelled to come and help 'kick Eyebrow's ass' as he had written in one of his letters to France. He was even bringing one of his generals along and would be sailing back with her. She was waiting in one of the sitting rooms in the Ben's house is Passy along with France, her bags resting against her bed and ready for the months worth of travel back across the ocean to home.

"My boat will be leaving soon," America stated idly as she observed the dust moats illuminated by the light pouring through the open window.

"Ne t'en fais pas," France replied with a languid wave of his hand. "No ship of mine will leave without its most important passengers aboard." America sighed but remained where she was. France had been irritatingly mum on this new nation that was to accompany her back home. She wondered if he was of the same cheerful disposition as Spain, or if he was a grouch like England without his tea. She dearly hoped that he didn't share any of France's perverted tendencies, though she'd come to conclusion that in general Europeans were much more 'touchy-feely' compared to her people.

She was interrupted from her thoughts as a bright yellow blur shot through the open window and flew straight into America's chest.

"What the heck!" America cried in alarm as she collected the small thing in her hands. Upon further examination the small blob in her hands was in fact a small chick of some type. It looked up at her with beady black eyes and cocked its head at her.

"... Hello?"

"Piyo~"

America looked up helplessly at France whom was looking expectantly at the door. Following his gaze she was met with a shock of ash white hair and burgundy red eyes.

"Hallo."

**Oh my god you have no idea how badly I've been waiting to get to Prussia and Von Steuben!**

**Sorry if this chapter seems to be a bit all over the place, for some reason it really didn't want to be written *sighs* I know France probably could have been written better too but oh well.**

**Alright I'll try to make the history short here~**

**OC~**

**Charles Gravier**** \- More commonly known as the Comte de Vergennes, Gravier was the French Foreign Minister during the time of the American Revolution. He was the intermediary between Louis XVI and the Americans. He was an advocate for providing aid to the Americans, but the King kept dragging his heels because it would seriously strain France's purse and he didn't want to waste money over a failed revolution. Thankfully, Saratoga came along and the King finally gave the green light for Gravier to draw up an official alliance with America.**

**Silas Deane**** \- A bit of a lesser known figure (which is a shame because he did a lot) Deane was the first representative Congress sent over to France to try and secure arms and supplies. He was a very successful businessman and it was through a private business that he set up that France was able to secretly send us supplies. However, accusations began circulating about him (no one really actually knows what the accusations were, but many think that Arthur Lee had a big hand in it) and forced Deane to return to America were he was officially discharged from Congress and was never reimbursed for the money he spent in gaining French aid.**

**Occupation of Philadelphia \- This was both a big and small event in the Revolution. It was small in the sense that it was merely the capture of a city, nothing different from when the British occupied New York. Washington and the rest of the colonists saw this as a blow yes, but they were not overly concerned with it. However, from the standpoint of the Europeans, the capture of Philadelphia was a big deal to them as it was seen as the capitol of America at that time. With most European wars, the battle is over once the enemy takes hold of the capitol and that was the thinking of both the French and the British. But we American's were just like "so what?", moved Congress out of Philadelphia, and just kept on fighting.**

**Occupation of New**** York \- New York City was one of the first major losses for Americans early on in the Revolution. Washington learned from it that he couldn't fight the British head on and worked on making his men the best tactical retreat army the world had ever seen instead. So in a way, losing New York City was sorta a good thing in hindsight. As for New Yorkers who were suddenly under British rule, they didn't go out with a whimper. No, instead they set most of the city on fire (there was a healthy population of English-hating, Irish pyromaniacs in the city at the time) and in general made a nuisance of themselves.**

**Battle of**** Saratoga \- This battle is seen as the first major victory for America (apparently Trenton and Princeton didn't count) and basically cemented the French-American alliance. General Burgoyne and his men were making their way through America via the Hudson River Valley in a coordinated attempt with General Howe and Colonel Barry St. Leger's forces ****to isolate New England (which was perceived as the heart of the rebellion) and focus on crushing it. The American's however, where very much prepared for an invasion through the Hudson and had strong fortifications built on Blemis Heights, which overlooked both the Hudson and the road that ran with it. They were able to keep Burgoyne from moving forward and forced them to retreat to the Balcarres Redoubt where they could hold off the Americans. However, the Breymann Redoubt to the north of Balcarres was not so fortified and fell into American hands. **

**This pushed the British even further back until Burgoyne was like "fuck it" because they were desperately low on supplies and began to retreat until they hit Saratoga. There they were boxed in by American troops and two days after arriving they were surrounded. This led to a week long negotiation where Burgoyne and his 5700 men surrendered and were then sent back to England with the promise that they would not serve again in the war against America.**

**Okay, phew, I'm done. Now I can finally get back to you guys!**

**To the guest who left me that super nice review - I'm so happy you and the rest of you guys like my fem!America! I really do try to cram as much history as I can in these chapters, hopefully without overwhelming everyone too much, but there's still _so _much that I simply can't fit in here. And thank you for the luck for my finals (I only have two thank god!).**

**And thank you to everyone who's jumped on board with the last chapter!**

**Alright time for me to sign off. To my fellow American's I hope you had a kick-ass memorial day weekend and to the rest of the world I hope you had a good weekend too.**


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